Reunion
by hColleen
Summary: Nezumi left, but there was always the promise he'd return.


The wall had fallen, that much was certain, obvious. But, had things really changed? Had the world become something new, something without the horrible secrets, without the bees, something that could endure? Was it someplace they could be together now?

Sion knew that there were things Nezumi had to do, needed to finish before he could settle down, if he ever really could. There was a restlessness, an energy about Nezumi nothing really could contain, a passion that encompassed his whole being though he denied being attached to anything other than the idea of bringing down No. 6. Sion knew there were other things in Nezumi's heart, that he was there, even if he couldn't quite admit it freely. It had been thee from the beginning, the first time they met, when Sion screamed out his rebellion to the Moondrop and acted it out by not admitting to hiding a refugee.

The moment they'd met had been incredible, not just for the storm that raged wildly outside, but also for the one that raged in Sion's mind. Nature had called to him, drawing him when his mind should be focused on other things. It was bad form for an elite's mind to wander during class. But, the first touch of Nezumi's hand, violent though it had been, had done more to him than Safu's kiss had. He couldn't explain why, not at that time, nor later, when they found each other again.

It hurt somewhat when in the morning, he was gone. The storm had passed and Sion's heart had changed, matured. He was not the same boy he'd been when he threw open the windows and screamed out at the storm, at the blister on the city. Even the changing of his status from elite to common could not take away from or diminish the changes that a single night, a single encounter with Nezumi had wrought on his mind. That night was more than worth the loss of privileges.

When they met again, it was a perfect completion to the beginning of that night, despite the rest of the situation surrounding them. Nezumi still held his heart, he knew it the instant he heard his voice whispering from the rat that had boldly climbed his leg, had known it was Nezumi even before his voice made its way to his mind. How he longed to see him again. Was it fate that they met just after the strange death in the park, just prior to his own arrest?

Anything that Nezumi asked him, nearly anything, would have been worth the sacrifice. The one thing he couldn't give up, though, was his mother. Nezumi's desire to destroy all of No. 6 included his mother and she was the one thing, the only thing, that he couldn't sacrifice. Through her, through what would make her sad, he couldn't bring himself to believe that the full and total destruction of No. 6 was the only way to go.

The books that Nezumi treasured in his home entranced Sion almost as much as Nezumi did. For a moment, he was able to just live within the warmth of memories. That warmth was torn from him shortly after it arrived, though, by the plague that No. 6 wrought on his body. His faith that Nezumi could help him, even though his will to live wavered under the pain that coursed through his soul and body, was rewarded.

The confusion of meetings, encounters, danger, safety, learning the mixture of truth and lies, anger, hope, despair, everything that was living the winter through in the West Block, learning everything possible, being with Nezumi, with the others, it was more of a life than Sion could have claimed in the past 16 years. He learned more about the human condition, about what it meant to be human. He learned, though Nezumi wouldn't admit it, that he'd become something precious to Nezumi, the one who swore never to be close to anyone.

If they could give word to what they felt, to what was growing between them, love wasn't the right word, being too shallow. Respect, definitely, a sense of belonging, not just in the same place, but also to each other, and desire, though Sion didn't know how to act on it and Nezumi would not allow himself to act on it.

He learned that he changed Nezumi's life, altered it in ways that couldn't be explained. But, their lives were tied together by a fate stronger than anything else that steered them. Sion could not imagine being separated from Nezumi, and though he couldn't admit it, even to himself, could not imagine a world where Sion wasn't with him.

But, they didn't know each other, not truly. Fate had bound them together, tied their hearts together, but their minds were separated by vast oceans of ideology, of experience and of privilege. While Sion didn't cling to his privileged upbringing, it still separated him from Nezumi, who'd grown up with nothing his wits could not get him. It was a gap that neither of them wanted there, nor did they truly know how to close it.

They both had something they needed to protect, something they couldn't admit to each other, even though the other was that thing that was valued more than life itself. Sion didn't know how to say it; Nezumi believed it a weakness.

It wasn't until the end of No. 6 that they could even fully admit their feelings, though not in words. Nezumi saw deeply into Sion's mind, saw just what he would do for him, how far Sion would go. He also found out how much he needed Sion. He couldn't leave him; he would have died with him, had Safu not exerted her will over Elyurias and saved them both. He heard it in Sion's voice when he turned to leave, to finish the work he had before he could be with Sion. He let it filter into the kiss he gave Sion before he left, it was a promise of so much more. It was not a good-bye. They would never say good-bye, not again. Only until later, when time would allow them to fulfill the fate that had been given them.

It was only four months, this time, before they were able to rejoin. Somehow, four months seemed longer than the four years that had gone before. The city was struggling to find its feet, still reeling from the grief of so many dying on the Holy Day. So many had died and so many questions remained and so much to be done that each day felt like a week and it was easy to lose track of how many had passed. Things that had been taken for granted before, things that there had been enough people to produce, were now in short supply. Food took the work of most of the survivors to ensure that there would be enough to get through the winter. Clothing was scavenged and adapted, homes that survived were cleaned and reoccupied. Everyone who remained was expected to contribute and they were given a share of what was made.

Children were the most difficult. Those that were old enough to work spent part of the day in education, the rest of the day, they were in tasks that suited their skill levels. Babies, many of whom were now orphans like the one Sion had rescued. Those who were unable to work in the field or those factories that were still around watched over the babies. To ensure survival, everything was everyone's; there were no elite, no outcasts. Everyone struggled to learn, to survive, to reclaim and rebuild, to make No. 6 a true 'utopia' where there would never be a wall again.

Sion taught, reading to the children from texts and from story books, determined that they should know the artful words he learned with Nezumi, that his mother read to him when he was young. He didn't want them to lose those stories again.

Just after one of these classes, Hamlet ran up onto his shoulder and Nezumi's voice whispered, "Is that all you're doing now?" before the white mouse ran down again.

A thrill coursed through Sion's body, his hands clutching as he dashed after the rat, trying to keep him in sight. When he saw the tall, lanky figure before him, he froze. "Nezumi," he whispered, almost afraid that this was just a dream.

Eagerness showed in Nezumi's walk, though he tried to keep up the appearance of being calm and collected. "You act like you didn't expect to see me," he said as he came within a couple of feet of Sion.

With a gasp, Sion closed the space between them, his arms going around Nezumi's neck, burying his face into his shoulder. He trembled, a leaf shaking in the wind, even when Nezumi wrapped his arms around him. "I…" he started but couldn't finish.

"It wasn't good-bye. I had to finish things," Nezumi whispered, his lips against Sion's ear. The expression in Sion's red eyes, the way he clung told Nezumi everything he needed to know.

"I know," Sion whispered. "It was just 'until later.'" He moved a little, just enough that he could press his lips to Nezumi's, almost afraid he'd be rejected even though he knew he wouldn't.

Nezumi's arms tightened and he returned the kiss, deepening it past just a 'hello' into something that neither of them could articulate. When he pulled back reluctantly, he smiled at Sion. "I found some cherries. Do you think your mother would make us a cake?" he asked.

Tears filled Sion's eyes. "I think she would," he said, his voice a little choked. Safu had never inspired these feelings, this level of need to touch, to be with. He pulled himself together and stepped back, smiling, his blush almost hiding the mark on his cheek, deepening when Nezumi reached up to touch his mark with an expression of utter tenderness. Sion wouldn't have moved except that Nezumi turned, starting toward his home. He jogged, falling into pace with Nezumi, his fingers reaching out, but not quite touching before relaxing at his side. "Have you seen Inukashi?" he asked.

Amusement filled Nezumi's voice. "Still running the hotel. Told me to send you back there to wash the dogs."

"Ah, there's been so much to do," Sion mumbled, his hand coming up to ruffle his white hair.

Catching his hand, Nezumi said, "I know, I'm just passing along the message."

Warmth flooded Sion's body as Nezumi continued to hold his hand until they were almost to his mother's home. She still lived above her bakery, still baked. Sion had moved into the house next door, the residents having fallen to the plague. Nezumi led him to the bakery.

There was a gasp, then Nezumi found himself embraced, surrounded in the scent of yeast and flour and sweat. "Nezumi," Karan whispered, her voice broken with sobs.

Eyes returning to a more normal size, Nezumi smiled and returned the hug. "Sorry I couldn't be with you earlier," he said softly.

Karan pulled back, wiping her face. "I'm glad to finally meet you. I can't thank you enough for saving Sion." She wiped her face and smiled, a watery expression. "For saving all of us." Sion hadn't told her everything that had happened, but sometimes, even through the walls that separated them, she could hear her son screaming in his sleep and it took everything she had to not go to him. He never spoke of what his nightmares were and she knew him well enough to know that he couldn't tell her.

"It was Sion's dream to bring down the wall," Nezumi temporized. He drew out a bag. "I brought some cherries," he said, grinning a bit like the child he once had been.

Karan laughed and took them from him. "I'll make dinner. It'll be about an hour, so please, make yourselves comfortable. You can go upstairs or next door. Hana's asleep upstairs, though."

"Hana?" Nezumi asked, looking at Sion.

'The baby we saved from the cleaners," he clarified.

"Oh," Nezumi murmured and then started up the stairs. "I should see this baby you risked your life for," he said over his shoulder as Sion moved to follow him.

"She's getting big," Sion said, his pulse racing for no reason he could place easily. Safu would probably tell him it was arousal, that he wanted Nezumi's semen and that thought brought a half-smile to his lips. Is this what she'd felt when she asked him so boldly. He couldn't remember her hands shaking like it felt his were. Everything within him was at Nezumi's beck and call; he would have done anything the dark-haired boy asked of him.

"You shouldn't be so spacey," Nezumi chided when Sion nearly ran into him. He wrapped his arm around Sion's waist, holding him close as he looked at Hana as she slept on the lower bunk.

"I was remembering something," he murmured.

"That question?" Nezumi asked, his eyes still on Hana. "Safu's question," he added, as though he knew, as though it was in the forefront of his own mind. At Sion's hummed confession, Nezumi said, "Me, too. After dinner." Sion's hummed answer was both disappointment and anticipation. "I don't want to be interrupted," Nezumi said simply.

Sion turned a smile on him and leaned lightly into him before kneeling next to the bed Hana slept on. She stirred, her small fists rubbing her face as it scrunched and she opened her eyes. Waving her hands, she laughed when she saw Sion. "Ah, you're awake," he said, picking her up, enjoying her burbling. She quieted and he looked to see where she was looking. "Ah, do you remember Nezumi?" he asked. Her eyes were wide, a fist half in her mouth. "It's been a while since you've seen him."

"Hello, Hana," Nezumi said, holding out a hand to her. It was a long moment of her staring before she burbled and reached out for his hand wrapping her fingers around as much as she could.

"She remembers," Sion said, obviously pleased. They spent the time until Karan brought up dinner playing with Hana, being close to each other. Dinner conversation covered the changes in No. 6 since the wall fell, news on those who survived, questions about family and history interspersed with feeding Hana. The meal was long, lingering, easy, for all it was simple, a stew with bread and cherry cake for desert.

Hana was becoming fussy and rubbing her eyes as she sat in Nezumi's lap by the time they realized how late it was. Nezumi set her back on the bed, singing a lullaby under his breath, lulling her to sleep in short order. Karan hugged both boys, holding Nezumi tightly, when they left for the night.

They were silent, walking down the stairs from Karan's room, through both doors, then up the stairs to Sion's room. There, Nezumi wrapped his around Sion, pulling close, their lips meeting again.

This time, they lingered in that kiss, Sion's hands coming up to cling to Nezumi, his whole body thrumming with pleasure. It was almost enough, almost good enough to linger in forever. Sion's fingers curled around Nezumi's cloak—where had he found another one?—only sure that he did not want to be away from Nezumi again. He could not deal with another separation; Nezumi meant too much to him. A gasp escaped him, forcing him to break their kiss, when Nezumi's fingers found their way under his shirt.

"Okay?" Nezumi asked, his eyes darkened with concern and desire as his fingers massaged gently at Sion's spine.

Sion nodded, swallowing thickly as he did. "Yes, I want this, you." He wasn't entirely sure what 'this' would entail, but he was sure he didn't want to stop. He opened his mouth to say something else and choked on the words. Instead, he leaned forward, raising up on his toes to press his lips against Nezumi's again through the sobs he couldn't stop now.

Gently, slowly, Nezumi wrapped his arms around Sion, pushing his shirt up and out of the way, holding him close enough that Sion could tell how precious he was in Nezumi's heart, something that he could never admit aloud. A smile touched his lip in the kiss as Sion's sobs eased and he moved to remove his cloak from where it was wrapped around his neck. A shiver coursed through his body as Sion's fingers rested against his skin, almost as though they were taking his pulse, to ensure he was alive and not some dream.

Sion drew back, his eyes darkened, pained. "I…that day, I needed to save you…" he whispered, his voice harsh.

"I was afraid you'd lose yourself," Nezumi whispered, "that you'd lose the dream that makes you Sion."

"You held me, my dream, stayed with me."

"I needed to," Nezumi admitted, his voice barely leaving his lips, but loud enough for both of them to hear to the cores of their being.

Sion's answering smile was watery. "I…want to have sex with you," he whispered, blushing through the flush of arousal. "I…don't know how, but I want to," he stammered.

Nezumi laughed, squeezing Sion closer. "I want that, too," he whispered. He brushed his lips against the end of the mark on Sion's face, then nuzzled into his white hair. "Is it alright if I undress you?"

Amusement touched Sion's eyes. "You've already started," he pointed out. They both laughed as Nezumi pulled Sion's shirt over his head and let the fabric fall to the floor. Sion then pulled at Nezumi's shirt. 

There was a moment of hesitation before Nezumi lifted his arms and allowed Sion to take his shirt. He was still uncomfortable about the scars on his back, a feeling he soon forgot when Sion's hands caressed them, his whole back, their chests pressed together.

"We're both marked by No. 6," Sion whispered.

In reply, Nezumi pressed their lips together again as though he wanted to take the whole of Sion's body into him. His arms were tight around Sion's body as though they could become one through their skin. Buried in his desperate kiss was a sob, tears running down his cheek. Despite everything, he was still afraid that Sion would reject him, turn him away. That fear was finally beginning to leave.

Sion responded willingly, wrapping his arms around Nezumi's neck, leaning into him, doing everything he could think of to encourage him to continue. He wasn't aware of the tears that fell against his cheeks, both from his own eyes and from Nezumi's. All that mattered was that they were finally together, that whatever walls remained were gone.

It wasn't until Nezumi pulled back and looked down at him, his hair starting to fall away from its knot, that Sion realized they were on the floor, Nezumi's weight pressing warmly against him. He gasped at the suddenness of it and reached up to touch Nezumi's cheek, brushing his hair back, loosening it more. "Nezumi," he whispered.

"Sion," Nezumi sobbed, choking on the name, burying his face in Sion's neck, pressing his lips to the pink mark that wrapped around it.

Groaning, Sion arched into Nezumi's explorations, his fingers working all of his hair loose, massaging Nezumi's scalp, marveling at how soft his hair was. He turned a little as Nezumi's hand worked under his shoulder, tracing the path of his mark down his back. He was a little surprised that Nezumi knew the exact path, surprised that he could think that just then. He slipped his fingers from Nezumi's hair and traced the edges of his scars, where the smooth, untouched skin met with the puckered, thickened areas. The shudders that coursed through Nezumi's body, the way his kisses at his neck became more needy, reassured Sion that he was doing the right thing.

It wasn't enough, though. His body ached for more. He squirmed, trying to press himself against Nezumi's body, to draw more warmth from him. A whine filled Sion's whole body when Nezumi pulled away from him, replaced with confusion and more desire when Nezumi used the distance between them to pull off Sion's pants.

"It's difficult to have sex with pants on," Nezumi said, his hands caressing Sion's bare legs along his calves, past his knees, and up his thighs, spreading them. His eyes traced the mark as it wrapped up Sion's right leg and across his body, noting that his erection was almost the same color. His hands paused at Sion's hips, hesitating, deciding which way to go before smoothing down his sides and up the outsides of his legs. He looked at Sion, amazed at how wanton he could look.

"Are you going to take yours off?" Sion asked, his voice husky, his eyes hungry, moving between Nezumi's eyes and his pants.

"You only want me for my sex," Nezumi complained, though his hands moved to comply with Sion's request.

"I want that, but I also…that's not all," Sion protested, squirming under the intensity of Nezumi's gaze. His eyes dropped and he watched Nezumi lower his pants, his mouth dry. He licked his lips, unable to look away from Nezumi's erection. He pushed himself up, reaching for it, wrapping his fingers around the warm firmness, pleased at the moan it drew.

Nezumi cupped Sion's chin, drawing his head up, kissing him hungrily, pressing him back to the floor. He needed more, needed to feel Sion's heat against his skin, to feel him writhe beneath him. More than food, more than air, he needed Sion. He worked his hand between them, stroking Sion's erection, swallowing the small sounds and groans that his touch caused. His hips began to rock in time to his hand's movements and he reveled that Sion's did as well. Then, the head of his shaft brushed against Sion's and he cried out. More need filled him, need for that touch and he worked his hand around both of their dicks.

Sion screamed into Nezumi's kiss, his hand moving away, gripping at Nezumi's ass, wanting him to stay exactly where he was, to keep moving like that. He moved so his feet were pressed against the ground, letting him move with Nezumi better. He ached for more in a way he didn't understand and believed that Nezumi could give him. Soft begging filled his throat, becoming words that Nezumi stole from him before they could be voiced.

Nezumi reached for Sion's leg with his free hand, lifting it, encouraging him to wrap it around him, to draw them closer. He knew what more could be done, but this was so perfect, he didn't want to change anything. His lips traced a path back to Sion's neck, nipping and sucking there, freeing his mouth to make those delicious little begging noises.

Sion's sounds became more desperate, more needy. He wrapped both legs around Nezumi, his hands clinging as though to life itself. He curled up, needing to kiss Nezumi, and ended up biting at his shoulder as his orgasm washed through him, tensing every muscle in his body before his head was thrown back, his body arching so that only his head and shoulders were against the ground, pressing his hips into Nezumi's body as his shaft pulsed between them, drawing a silent scream from him.

Nezumi had little choice but to let his body come with Sion's; such a display was something he hadn't expected. It was difficult, but he kept his eyes open through his orgasm, memorizing the way Sion moved, the way he looked, the lines of his body. He watched through half-lidded eyes as pleasure left Sion limp beneath him, his limbs trembling again, from pleasured exhaustion this time. He let himself settle onto his body, brushing a kiss against his lips before nuzzling into his hair.

"Welcome home," Sion murmured softly, his voice tired, pleased.

"I'm home," Nezumi sighed, reaching for his cloak and dragging it over them. This time, he would remain, Sion would remain, and they would build up their dream. For now, they would dream.


End file.
